Phil S. has started a record label, and releases a single by the band my old school friends are in: A. designs the label artwork and the cover of the record. They even get a John Peel session. One day I go to the record shop at Kingston station and Phil S. is at the counter with his back to me. I slide backwards out of the door. I go down to Southampton unannounced one Friday and can’t find anyone: I wait on the doorstep in the dark till they come home from the pub. I sob into Ari’s shoulder.